


Wild Fellow; Real Problem

by Faye_Reynolds



Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: GETS FLUFFY, M/M, Post-Film, but i don't buy into mcclane being emotional unvailable or stunted, half-fluff half-john "thinking", this fic is brought to you by a one direction power hour and the tunnel scene(tm), y'all know what's up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faye_Reynolds/pseuds/Faye_Reynolds
Summary: “I got a question.” John declares gruffly, not want to interrupt Matt’s concentration, but at least needing Matt to look at him in acknowledgment.Saving the country together coupled with a near full week at a hospital together, allows John to know enough about Matt to know to wait until the silence forces Matt’s interest.John times it just to see how interested Matt really was.He gets to around 130 seconds before Matt looks up and throws his fringe out of his eyes.
Relationships: Matt Farrell/John McClane
Comments: 8
Kudos: 140





	Wild Fellow; Real Problem

**Author's Note:**

> i don't quite know how this came about, but thomas hamilton said to "know no shame," and that on freedom.  
> it's 2020.  
> we die without shame.

It’s their fifth or sixth day in the hospital, days that were full of tests, treatment, interrogations, soap operas, and the constant presence of one another.

And it’s during their first official downtime, not consisting of sleep, that John remembers something.

And it’s either the meds, exhaustion or general lack of awareness at what he tells Matt Farrell on a regular basis that has him saying,

“Hey, kid?”  
  
Matt was in the middle of a crossword puzzle of all things.

John smiles at the fact that always needed something to do. Could never be still or complacent. Always do.

“Trying to figure out twelve down, John. What’s up?”

_John._

Matt had no problem casually using his first name and it makes John start at how comfortable Matt is with him. There were still people at the precinct who weren’t brave enough to call him by his first name and he’d worked with them for years. And here Matt was, using it like they’d been friends forever.

John mutes the TV, his curiosity more important than finding out who’s the father of Esmerelda’s baby.

“I got a question.” John declares gruffly, not want to interrupt Matt’s concentration, but at least needing Matt to look at him in acknowledgment.

Saving the country together coupled with a near full week at a hospital together, allows John to know enough about Matt to know to wait until the silence forces Matt’s interest.

John times it just to see how interested Matt really was.

He gets to around 130 seconds before Matt looks up and throws his fringe out of his eyes.

John smirks again and stares at Matt in silence, not entirely unlike their first meeting.

“You have a question?” Matt clears throat and John swears he sees him blush.

“Back in the tunnel…” John starts, suddenly nervous with Matt’s full attention on him.

_Should’ve asked while he was distracted then, John._

“Approximately two lifetimes ago or at least, what feels like it, yeah. What about it?” Matt smiles, curiosity brewing behind bright brown eyes.

For John, this is something that’s been bugging him since they headed for West Virginia.

Since his mind spoke for him at Freddy’s, forcing him to clarify that he wasn’t Matt’s dad rather than only saying that he was a cop.

Since Matt helped save the country. His daughter’s life. _His_ life.

Since Matt became _that guy_.

Since Lucy looked at him, as he watched Matt in the back of the ambulance like she could tell exactly what was running through his mind at the moment. What he _really_ wanted to say to the kid. 

“McClane? _John?_ ”

Matt’s voice pulls him from his sprint down memory lane.

“The tunnel? Running for our lives? Your killing a helicopter with a car nearly giving me a heart attack in the process?”

Matt laughs again, but it sounds tighter, more forced.

John both hates and loves that he’s able to tell the difference. Still, he smirks again and watches Matt swallow heavily.

Then John bites the proverbial bullet and askes what’s been bothering him since then.

“Why’d you run? Out of the car, I mean.” He asks gently as he fights off the ball of nerves sitting at the base of his throat.

Matt laughs softly, a breath of air more than anything else, “Why else? I was scared.”

John would’ve believed it, taken Matt at his word, but it was too simple, evasive even.

That, and Matt wouldn’t meet John’s eyes and John was more than capable of spotting a good lie with ease. Matt was many things, but he was not a good liar.

John keeps his tone soft, but puts the weight of the statement into what he says next.

“Lie to the nurses, lie to Bowman, hell try and lie to Lucy, but please don’t lie to me, kid.”

Matt looks like he’d rather run from the room than answer John. And John’s not going to push him to answer. Maybe the kid was just scared. So John starts to turn back toward the TV set high on the wall in the opposite corner.

Then Matt mumbles something and despite not hearing a single word, John's attention is locked back onto the other man.

“What was that? One too many explosion recently, kid.”

Matt throws himself back onto his pillows and John recognizes it as a sign that Matt is about to go on a rant.

He shifts more, legs dangling and swinging on the side of his hospital bed.

Matt sighs like he’s just lost an argument with himself.

So John just waits patiently, knowing Matt’s brain was running as fast as possible and needed time to organize itself. John was patient. He could wait.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“I said that I was telling the truth.”

John glares, unsure why Matt won’t tell him the truth when the kid starts talking again.

“I was scared…but it wasn’t for me though.”

Matt laughs again, slightly crazed with finger wringing together with anxious energy.

John waits again, feeling like he did a few days ago, heart racing, and watching Matt to make sure he was okay and wanted to or could keep going.

“I was scared for you.”

John’s legs stopped swinging and lungs caught the breath in them.

“What?” He asks dumbly, throat cracking, and completely lost.

Matt groans like John mixed up Star Wars and Star Trek again.

“Jeeeeezzzzuss McClane. All those damn observation skills and you still don’t see it.”

John knows his missing something fundamental, but all he can see is Matt.

Matt groans again, more frustrated than angry and that’s good. John can work with frustration.

“Remember back at the ambulance after,” Matt swings his hand in a vague gesture, “After everything, I asked you if Lucy said anything about me?”

John would never admit it, but he bristles a bit at the mention of Lucy.

He nods gently in acknowledgment.

“Well, she had no reason to, but I thought she…” Matt trails off, cheeks red.

“Thought she what?” John asks firmly.

“I thought she’d told you what I said when Gabriel had us hostage.”

John couldn’t hold back now, he’d opened the door after all.

Matt sighs, look at John quickly, and then back at his hands.

“Gabriel was doing typical bad guy things, talking about how good-looking Lucy was and you know me…stress, near-death experiences, the fate of the country hinging on my capacity for fear and pain. I-I-I just say things. So, to take the attention off Lucy, I said…”

Matt clears his throat and John holds his breath, guessing where it was going.

“I said, ‘not as much as her dad.’”

Matt lets out a breath and John just stares, unsure of what to say exactly. So the kid thought he was good looking, John’s not blind or oblivious, he knows enough people have thought that same thing.

Then Matt shrugs and speaks again, nerves getting to him as he launches fully into a stream of consciousness.

“Screw it. I like you, John. _Fuck_. Like I _really_ like you. Initially, I figured once the adrenaline and drugs and surrealism of everything wore off, I wouldn’t want to climb over there and figure out if you kiss as well as you fight. But here we are. Me doing a fucking crossword, trying to ignore every move you make or comment on which guy Chastity should marry, while you sit there with your arms and face and battle scars and little smirk like and smart mouth nothing is going on. And maybe,” Matt sighs, “Maybe nothing is going on for you, but I’m deep in it over here and then you ask why I ran in the tunnel?”

John can only stare and process everything Matt’s just thrown at him.

“Here’s your answer. I ran because you’re a good guy. You may not believe it, but you are. And despite being _that guy,_ you didn’t deserve to die because you’d been dragged into the shit storm I helped create. And then I thought you died…sacrifice yourself in that fucking cop car for no other reason than to save me, some punk who’d gotten in over his head. I’d never felt such a shock and loss hit my system before, then you laughed, and I felt like I could breathe again. The relief I felt when I saw you aliev nearly made me collapse.”

Matt sighs deeply, and John watches the tension in Matt’s shoulders drain.

Matt looks at John then and the defeated look in those brown eyes makes John want to reach out an touch. But he can’t get beyond “ _I really like you”_ and _“You’re a good guy.”_

“It wasn’t your fight, John.”

John looks up then. He’s been told that so many times before, he’s not sure why this time it hits him harder.

“I just thought if I could get out and get away, then they’d chase me, not you. You’d be fine. I would’ve gone off the grid, I’d done it before. And yeah, maybe the country would’ve ended up in a pile of ash, but at the time, I didn’t care. My only goal was keeping you alive like you’d done for me. You were innocent. So there’s your answer, _that’s_ why I ran.”

John is staring mouth open, and heart racing. And Matt is breathing calmly and just watching John with poise like he didn’t just upend John’s entire world.

_Kid wasn’t lying when he said he had a lot rattling around up there._

Now the kid was radio silent, pretending to focus on the crossword, but John can see the kid’s having trouble keeping his eyes off John’s still dumbstruck face.

He had so much he could’ve said…wanted to say, but none of it seemed right.

One thing people tended to underestimate about John was he was severely lacking in emotional capacity and availability. It wasn’t the whole truth. He had to compartmentalize so much, that it was always easier to add emotions to the list.

So of course, the kid… _Matt_ had to bring everything to light.

And of course, John had noticed the kid’s… _Matt’s_ attention, he wasn’t oblivious, and the hacker was about as transparent as cling wrap.

It’s just that…there’d been more important things going on at the time.

Now though?

Now, he was on medical leave for the foreseeable future and picking up the pieces of his life left from the fire sale.

Now, he had all the time in the world to decompartmentalize. Time to think back on everything that happened since they had met. From the moment the kid said his name was Daisy Duke, John had been charmed. Then the kid's sarcasm and inability to keep quiet had John struggling to keep from laughing outright. Then Matt had proven himself to be just as brave as John, maybe even more so. John knows civilians, knows what most people do in when shit hits the fan. Not many would have _chosen_ to follow John blindly into battle, into possible, almost certain, pain, suffering, and death. Not just anybody would have continuously chosen to do so, either. But Matt wasn’t just anybody. At every turn, John would have been able to look over his shoulder and find Matt, most likely with his hair and arms flailing everywhere and mouth going a mile a minute, but he was there. That constant, the presence and knowledge that he wasn’t alone, not in _this_ fight at least, had helped keep John going when they were backed into another corner. =

Despite not being _that guy_ , Matt had more than proved that he was. They both were.

Now, they both were here.

Together.

John recalls their initial conversation in the car.

_You know what you get for being a hero? Nothing._

Though the answer was usually worse than nothing. You always lose when you’re the hero.

John smirks as he watches Matt’s hands fumble with the straw in his water bottle the nurses gave him.

Maybe since they’re both heroes, they’ll cancel each other out.

Maybe this time…it’s different.

Because Matt is different. So unlike anyone John’s ever known or ever wanted to know.

Which is just another reason, in a long list, why John is completely smitten with Matt.

So much so, he was discharged three days ago, but remained by Matt’s side, in part, because he wasn’t just going to leave the kid behind and another part of him hadn’t been ready to let go yet.

Then the punk short-circuits John’s entire brain by admitting that he’d been thinking about John in the same manner and intensity the John had been thinking about him.

And the adrenaline pumping through his veins is due to the anticipation of kissing the everliving hell out of the man next to him.

The _punk_ that he _still_ hasn’t managed to respond to in at least five minutes, if not longer.

He knows, under other circumstances, his lack of communication would’ve had Matt walking away, but instead he went back to silently working on the damn crossword.

He realizes then no amount of words would’ve been a proper response now. Nothing he could say would feel right.

Still, John’s always been more of a man of action.

He gets off the bed slowly and takes the three small steps to stand beside Matt’s bed.

Being _that guy_ had lost him more in life than he cared to remember.

This time, he was going to win.

Except Matt was steadfastly ignoring him and making it a point not to look up.

John smirked.

“Hey kid,” John clears his throat, nerves suddenly sinking in, “ _Matt_. Look at me.”

Matt closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath before looking John directly in the eyes.

_Not brave at all, my ass. Rookies aren’t even that courageous._

John reaches out slowly, trying not to spook the hacker, and pushes the ever-present fringe from Matt’s eyes.

“W-what are you doing?” Matt asks, breathless, and damn if it doesn’t make John feel a little smug.

His thumb reaches out on its own to run gently along Matt’s bottom lip and smirks when he hears a small gasp.

John’s entire then world narrows down to the two of them.

“Proving that I’m shit at fighting.”

They meet in the middle, lips connecting resolutely. It’s soft, a little dry from the harsh air of the hospital, and entirely perfect.

John shifts closer to the bed, right hand wrapping around Matt’s neck to pull him closer and kiss him harder.

Then the door slams open and John is pushing Matt behind him, to shield him from danger, on instinct.

All he sees though is a short brunette nurse in dark purple scrubs looking only slightly embarrassed at interrupting. Nurse Grace had been a pain in John’s ass since they’d first arrived and she considered him a pain in her’s because he always refused to move rooms, refused help, and refused treatments.

“John McClane! Glare at me all you want, but if you’re going to stay here and elevate my patient’s heart rate, at least do it when I’m not here! Or better yet, go home and get some rest. Maybe let Mr. Farrell here rest as well. After all,” She smiles wide at John and he knows what she’s going to say before she finished, “You were discharged three days ago.”

She closes the door far gentler than when she came in and once again John and Matt are left in silence.

Until he hears a small snort because Matt…is laughing.

Then he’s looking at John with the same admiration and smile that he saw back at the ambulance and the tunnel and on the drive to D.C. after John had first saved his life.

John wants desperately to kiss him again.

“Just couldn’t stay away, could you _John?_ ”

Matt’s smile is contagious, and John finds himself responding genuinely with ease.

“Not even if I tried, kid.”

Matt leans his head back against the mountain of pillows and licks his lips a little too slowly to be unintentional.

John’s eyes are glued to them and the small slip of tongue like he’s been hypnotized.

Matt smiles again, looking partly victorious.

John makes eye contact and notices Matt’s pupils were much larger than they been a moment ago.

“Can’t feign innocence now, McClane.”

John scoffs, “If I’m being honest, I haven’t had a single innocent thought about you since you jumped over that car in the tunnel, Daisy Duke.”

Matt laughs and pulls John toward him using only the drawstring on the sweatpants the hospital provided.

It shouldn’t turn John on as much as it does, but he’s only human.

“Three days, huh?” Matt inquires with a mischievous lilt in his question.

John has to look away, fearing he’ll give too much away too soon, and notices the crossword clue Matt was stuck on.  
 _  
12 Down._

_Wild fellow; real problem._

It clicks just as easily as his mag clicks in his weapon.

“Feral.” He states simply.

Matt’s hands slip under John’s shirt with confident ease, electrifying John’s skin.

“I like it better when you call me Matt.”

John laughs, open and warm, then reaches for the pen and paper.

“Twelve down.” He responds, smile still on his face, slightly smug because Matt can’t seem to stop touching him.

Matt watches with barely concealed confusion and slight offense at John ignoring his advances.

John smiles again and fills in the five small white boxes before he sets it on Matt’s bedside table and points.

“Wild fellow; real problem. Remind you of anyone?”

Matt smiles brightly.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

John reaches out his right hand until it connects with the side of Matt’s neck.

“So far…got all the time in the world to do better.”

John knows what he’s saying, what he’s offering, and knows Matt is smart enough to figure it out.

Matt’s eyes widen and John panics and thinks he’s overstepped, overestimated Matt’s… _interest._

He tries to backtrack, suddenly freaking out because he overplayed his hand and now Matt was definitely going to walk out of his life…when he could.

“I-If that’s is something you’re, uh, you know…interested in?” He asks lamely, nearly missing the warm smile and bright eyes from the hacker in front of him.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, McClane.”

_Cute._

John’s panicking subsides at the word.

It’s been at least a decade since anyone had thought he was cute. John wasn’t against it. Beat asshole any day of the week.

“And to answer your question, I’m interested.”

John smiles, panic easing at the pull of his body toward Matt’s.

“ _Very, very_ interested.”

John smirks and pulls Matt into a rough kiss, driving their air from their lungs.

He hears a consisting beeping and pulls away, regrettably, from Matt who is just breathless as John.

“Careful there, wouldn’t want the nurse to come in here and ban me from the room.”

He hears Matt groan in frustration, but nod in agreement. John’s hands slide from Matt’s neck to his hands on their own accord, but he _chooses_ to hold them.

“Should’ve just let her take you for bloodwork, John. You didn’t _have_ to throw anything.”

John laughs open and free and _happy._ He kisses Matt’s hands as though he’d done it a thousand times before…with ease.

He shrugs, “Can’t leave you to your own devices, kid. You’re a magnet for trouble.”

Matt scoffs, “Me?! I’m a trouble magnet? _I’m_ a trouble magnet?!”

Matt pulls his hands from John, not in anger, but so he can throw them about freely while he ranted.

“Here’s an itemized list of everything _you’ve_ done to draw trouble in the last six hours alone! Don’t even get me started on the Fire Sale, we don’t have the time McClane! Number one you used a rolling chair to chair the volume on the tv when you _know_ damn well there’s a remote. Number two…”

John just smiles as Matt continues to list, slight after slight. Matt doesn’t even notice when John grabs his left hand after he nearly hits John in the face.

He entwines their fingers, holding them together in his lap while Matt keeps talking.

And John thinks he could get used to this.

Hell, he already was.

And he _loved_ it.


End file.
